


Woman on a Mission (Across the Multiverse)

by Sar61_Sanz6



Category: Gravity Falls, Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Blind Faith (Gravity Falls), F/M, Multiverse, Other, Outer Space, Portal Stans, Portals, Pregnancy, Space traveling, Spaceships, alternate counterparts, world jumping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:35:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24427375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sar61_Sanz6/pseuds/Sar61_Sanz6
Summary: Alima Tripp/Pines is searching for someone very close to her. On her mission to find her Stanford Pines, she runs into his alternates instead. Meeting so many versions of her Stanford, she runs into obstacles and faces dangers beyond compare. Topped with the chance that the man she met could have even returned to his home universe, Alima fears her journey may have been in vain.
Relationships: Ford Pines/Original Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	1. It started there, this began

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CrossingTheFourthWall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrossingTheFourthWall/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Gravity Falls Mashup](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14279658) by [CrossingTheFourthWall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrossingTheFourthWall/pseuds/CrossingTheFourthWall). 
  * Inspired by [Blind Faith](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6473938) by [pinesinthewoods](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinesinthewoods/pseuds/pinesinthewoods). 
  * Inspired by [Drifting Stars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5432756) by [the_subpar_ghost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_subpar_ghost/pseuds/the_subpar_ghost). 
  * Inspired by [A Shooting Star May Fall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14261673) by [Yatzstar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yatzstar/pseuds/Yatzstar). 
  * Inspired by [A Shooting Star May Fall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8828332) by [Keleficent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keleficent/pseuds/Keleficent). 
  * Inspired by [Araminta Pines](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/626314) by thisfangirlsnerdy. 
  * Inspired by [Second Chances](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/626317) by psychopathicdorito. 
  * Inspired by [Multiverse is a Curse Word](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12900060) by [amadscientistapproaches](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amadscientistapproaches/pseuds/amadscientistapproaches). 



> A story of interest if anyone ever wondered, 'what if Stanfords of alternate realities crossed paths in the multiverse?' 
> 
> This is what I thought up after reading 'Gravity Falls Mashup'. Tell me what you think down below! 
> 
> And please leave kudos!

_ “Salutations! It’s nice to meet you. I didn’t think I’d see another Eevee here. I’m Alima, what’s your name?” _

_ “... it’s nice to meet you too? I’m currently going by Six-fur, for now.” _

_ “Six-fur? That’s a funny name, why-…. Oh! You have extra toes! That’s so cool!” _

_ “Ah! Yes, I guess they are a bit- wait… cool?” _

_ “Yeah! It’s really cool. What else would it be? Besides awesome, of course.” _

_ “... you don’t think they’re a bit, well, strange?” _

_ “Strange is a bit of an understatement. They’re unique! That makes you a one-of-a-kind Eevee. Totally original!” _

_ “Um… thank you.” _

_ “Hey! I know a berry shop nearby, what to join me for lunch?” _

_ “... you know, I think I would like that.” _

_ “Then come on! If we hurry we can get dibs on the Oran berries!” _

_ “Hey! Slow down! I can’t run that fast!” _

_ “You better learn quickly then, Six-fur!” _

* * *

_ “Do you have to go? You could wait for the next one. We could finish your project here.” _

_ “Alima, I have to go. This could be the only chance I have and I don’t want to risk waiting years for the next stable rift.” _

_ “What about your work? What about the research?! What about us?!!” _

_ “...... Alima, you can’t come with me. He is too dangerous and… I don’t want him to go after you to get to me.” _

_ “I can fight him-WE can fight him! We could work together and stop him for good! You know how strong I am! You know the experience I have!” _

_ “But you don’t know Bill as well as I do. You don’t know his tricks or how he thinks.” _

_ “You can teach me! You can TELL me! Please, Six, please, just take me with you!” _

_ “... My dear, I wish I could… but I won’t let Cipher get anywhere near you. Please, try to understand this much: I need to do this, but most of all, I need to know you’re safe.” _

_ “... please… please… you can’t leave me… not you too… please Stanford… don’t go...”  _

_ “... … I don’t want to, Ali… but I have to… for my universe, and even the multiverse, I have to defeat him.” _

_ “... don’t forget me...”  _

_ “I could never forget the one I love, Alima.” _

* * *

**_Beep! Beep! Beep!_ **

I swat my hand at the alarm frustratedly. Just a few more minutes, a few more minutes with him. Can’t a girl have a little longer to reminisce about her dream of the past?

No, not this girl. Not now, and maybe not ever.

After all, a ship’s captain hardly has any time to herself.

**_*Knock, knock, knock*_ **

“Captain Alima? The scanners have picked up a nearby rift that recently formed. The ship’s autopilot is set on its course and we should be within testing distance in t-minus two hours.”

I groaned a bit, still half asleep but still able to hear his report. “Thank you, Delta. I’ll be at the helm in a few minutes.”

The sound of his boots walking down the hall signaled his leave. I got up and dressed for the ‘day’. Though it was a bit hard to tell the time in space, it always looked like one long night. 

I only had a handful of clothes, so I simply settled for a baggy off-shoulder, long-sleeved shirt, and loose dark grey pants. I covered my outfit with a deep blue trench coat that swallowed my body, it’s length stopped at my ankles. The coat could easily be mistaken for black and it hid quite the assortment of weapons with a few other items. 

Turning to the full-length mirror on the wall opposite my bed, I fixed my thin, jet black hair into a tight bun no bigger than four inches in diameter. To finish it all off, I took my two crystal blue hair stick pins with dark blue tassels and arranged them so they stuck out on opposite sides of my bun; making an X stick between my head and bundled hair. 

I took a moment to look at the pins a bit, they were a wedding gift from my husband. I can still hear him tell me,  _ “I saw them and thought of you. I think they can help bring out your eyes more, my dear.” _

Those days seem like decades ago, those moments almost seemed lost. 

But I just had to look at my belly to tell how long ago it was. I am finishing my second month of pregnancy, we have only been apart for two months at most. 

I smile as I place my hand over my abdomen, knowing that our baby was still growing. Thanks to the trench coat, no one could see my small bump at all. Only a handful of people on my ship had ever seen my baby bump, and few people knew for certain that I was pregnant. Everyone else just heard rumors and stories of my baby. I prefer having few people knowing about my child, it made commanding a ship easier if the men on board didn’t think I was fragile and helpless. 

I was hardly either, of course, I got the habit of carrying at least a dozen weapons on my person long before I ever even met my husband. 

I turned away from the mirror and headed out my bedroom door. Walking to the right, I went straight to the helm and control room. 

The walls were made of some kind of metal alloy and the floor was covered with mixed boards of alien wood to give the ship a little charm. The wood was covered in a type of epoxy or resin from another alien world that was supposed to keep them from rotting with age and make the floor nearly impossible to scratch up. Or so I think, I didn’t really make it necessary to remember all the details when getting this ship ready. 

As I entered the control room, Delta was standing in front of the scanners with a calculated expression. For a brief moment, he almost looked like my husband. 

I shook my head from those thoughts and switched to my serious captain persona, “Delta. I figured you would head for your bed. You were up all night while I was sleeping, your own rest is just as important as mine.”

Delta did not look away from the screens, he simply nodded in polite acknowledgment to me, “Normally I would, but knowing that there is a rift we may be passing through and that there may be dangers we’ll encounter as we pass, I doubt I would be able to sleep.”

An expected response from any Stanford I suppose. Delta was the fourth alternate to board my ship and the first to ‘offer’ assistance in the control room. Although, Delta was the most hardened out of all the other Pines on board this inter-dimensionally traveling ship, so his reasons for helping were a little bit different from his alternates. 

I had taken it upon myself to learn as much as I could about each alternate Stanford I met on my journey. So I figured out pretty quickly why Delta wanted to always be aware of what was going on and why he seemed to have a habit of taking control of any situation. 

From what I gathered with Delta, he was the most battle-hardened out of all his counterparts on my ship. He only told me of a few worlds he traveled to and most of them were involved with great and dangerous wars. Delta took part in those wars, allying with the most innocent sides and doing what he could to help. Other times he told me of missions he was hired to do, missions involving much blood and death, for the good of others. Sometimes he killed entire slave trafficking operations, other times he killed corrupt leaders with evil intentions. Although Delta only did what was right for the innocent, the thought of killing others still haunted him. He had been relaxing more since he boarded the ship, but some of his hyper-awareness and need-to-know instincts still kicked in on occasion. 

Delta had actually challenged me for my title as captain not long after he settled in. He figured out pretty quickly that I was pregnant and thought that the work I did would be too stressful for my ‘condition’. To be fair, Delta was a great fighter, but I had been sparring with my own husband for five years before this Stanford met me. Delta made all the same mistakes with his form as my Six did back then, so fighting him was a piece of cake. Call it cheating or an unfair advantage, but I still won against him; while I was a few weeks pregnant too. The best part was that Delta tried to beat me in front of a small group of other Pines that wanted to watch us. They tried to cover their laughter when they saw me wipe the floor with Delta, the poor guy had his pride hurt a bit. After Delta lost the third time, I decided to come to a compromise with him. After all, he was just concerned for me and my baby, which is understandable: he is an alternate version of my husband. I figured Delta had the right to worry since he was practically an inter-dimensional relative. 

We decided to take shifts regularly so that I could take time to relax and Delta could be fully aware of what was happening at the helm. He was like my second in command in a lot of ways. 

“Fair enough, I suppose. But I do expect your butt in bed for six hours minimum later.”

Delta snorted a bit, but cleared his throat to compose himself quickly, “Yes, I do plan on resting later, do not worry about that.”

I smiled and walked to my seat in the center of the helm, Delta’s chosen station was on my far left. The hologram screens sprong to life immediately when I sat down. I looked over them as I spoke with Delta, “Has Gamma already left or will he be joining us shortly?”

Delta sat down in a chair in front of the scanners and zoomed in on some of the screens’ images, “I already sent him a message to meet us here, he wanted to know when we drew near another rift so he could gather some data for his theories and research.”

Gamma was the third Stanford to board my ship, he came about three days before Delta did. He was a scientist, like any other Ford, but his desire to gather information and memorize it was greater than most of his alternates. Gamma had taken it upon himself to compare all alternate Stanford timelines and find what was different and what remained the same. He had many theories of how alternate realities or universes were formed, mostly those theories were revolved around timelines splitting apart. Gamma also offered to help me shortly after Delta did, he wasn’t as worried about my health as Delta was and just asked if he could help rather than challenge me for my title, thank goodness. He did request occasionally that I take breaks, but only when the situation was serious. That was why I actually listened to Gamma when he asked me to stop working for a few minutes, he never asked unless things got too stressful for me. 

“What of Zeta and Omega?” I asked as I read the screens on the reports of the ship’s condition. I took a mental note to stop by the garden level later to harvest some of the produce that was ripening. 

“They also wanted to be here, so I sent out messages to them as well. The two of them should arrive shortly after Gamma, if not sooner.” Delta responded as he typed on a holo-screen. 

Zeta was a Stanford with a sixth sense for danger. He had a helpful habit of following his gut and doing so got him out of more situations than he dared to count. Whether it was irony, fate, coincidence, or some unknown cosmic reason, Zeta also was the sixth Stanford to settle in my ship. Zeta was the third person to offer his help, he was a bit concerned for me and my child, but he wanted to put his sixth sense to good use as well. Thanks to him, we narrowly avoided collecters and bounty hunters that were after Stanfords. My ship had quickly become a bounty goldmine in a way, but with Zeta’s help, we managed to stay far away from greedy hunters after quick cash or prizes. Zeta became something of an adviser of sorts, he was able to read people easily and he could tell when someone was lying or not being completely honest. His instincts also helped us from falling for convincing traps that almost got us into trouble. After one bounty hunter tried to fool us into letting him onto my ship and nearly succeeded, Zeta’s instincts were always trusted. 

Omega, on the other hand, was not the last person to board my ship, but he was the last person anyone wanted to anger. He was a naturally quiet Stanford, but that just made his moments of terror even more horrifying. Omega made a habit of not trusting people easily, it took a bit of time for him to believe that I was married to an alternate version of Stanford and that I was carrying said Stanford’s child. He had a no-nonsense persona and was constantly on guard, however, since he settled in Omega was starting to smile and relax more often. It was a few days after Zeta started helping at the helm that Omega offered his assistance. To this day, I still don’t know what I did to earn his trust but I am grateful that he believes me; he organizes everything perfectly. It was actually Omega that started the schedule for our shifts and planned out protocols for every possible situation. Omega doesn’t tell me much about the worlds he’s gone to, but I can tell that something intense happened to him. Whether he tells me or not is his decision, I don’t plan on prying it from him. 

Delta began to prep the scanning sequences as Gamma walked in. The two Stanfords looked nearly identical, the only differences were in their uniforms. 

Gamma’s black trench coat was cleaner, the pockets stuffed with journals, notebooks, and writing utensils. His black turtle neck looked newer, as well as his pants and boots. The only tear found on his clothes was on his coat’s collar, the small two-inch tear could be seen just below his left cheek. He looked less experienced compared to his counterparts, but he had actually been to a few hundred dimensions before coming here. Gamma’s hair was the only indication of his age and experience, only hints of his original brown color were left, overtaken by dark grey. 

Delta’s wardrobe was a bit more worn. His trench coat, pants, and turtle neck were littered with barely seen stitching and almost invisible patches. There were small tears along his sleeves, around his collar, and even on the hem of his shirt and coat. His pockets were filled with portable guns, a few pocket knives, some small explosives, and even a handful of flash and smoke grenades. His whole form spoke of his experiences, even his boots looked like they had seen far better days. Delta’s hair was completely grey with a line of paler grey forming on the back of his head, no bigger than a quarter of a centimeter high. 

“Good morning, Alima. I trust you slept well.” Gamma said as he walked to a station next to Delta. The holo-screens lit up at once and began displaying a live feed of the dimensional rift, the distance between it and the ship, and the scanning sequence being prepped. 

I rolled my eyes, “You hardly need to ask, Gamma. Unlike the other Pines on this ship, I am not a workaholic.” 

Gamma smirked a bit, “No, but you do have a habit of overworking yourself.”

“If you say anything about my ‘condition’, I will drag you to the training level and ‘introduce’ you to the floor. I’m sure it would love to meet another Stanford after Delta’s… demonstration.” I said in a sly voice. 

Gamma raised his hands in surrender but he had a smile on his face as he lightly laughed, “I would never cross that line, Captain.”

Omega then walked in, quiet and focused as he went to his station on my far right. The holo-screens turned on and he immediately skimmed through the rolling information that was being displayed. One screen had a live feed of the incoming rift and Omega kept glancing at it as he read through the reports. 

His attire was completely jet black, his hair was a deep grey with a pale line of almost-white grey rising just half a centimeter in height. Omega looked like a type of undercover mercenary, I knew from training with him that he had a massive collection of weapons hidden all over his person, not including what he hides in his boots and gloves. If you squinted just right, you could make out the well-closed stitches, the patches of deep black, and the slight wearing on the cloth Omega wore. 

Zeta finally came, carrying a tray with a steaming mug and a plate of brightly colored pastries. He walked up to the right side of my seat and a table rose from the floor, Zeta placed the tray on the table and faced me with a knowing look in his eyes. 

“I had a feeling that you didn’t grab anything to eat yet.” 

I rolled my eyes, “I would have been fine for a while longer, but thank you.”

The sly old man knew just what to get me too. A cup of fresh brewed Chesto berry tea, a Pecha berry cream puff, and a Nanab berry muffin. They smelled too good to resist so I just reached for the mug, being careful not to give away just how hungry the smell alone made me. 

Zeta had a slightly different take on his clothing. His shirt was not black, but a dark grey, his boots were more of a brownish-black color, and his pants were slightly baggy with two patches stitched at the knees. His hair had more brown than Gamma’s, small tufts of his original coloring were only found at the top of his head as the dark grey hair rose up from the back. Put simply, Zeta was a bit younger and not as stressed compared to his counterparts at their stations. 

Zeta headed for his station to the left of Omega’s, just like the others, the holo-screens activated the moment he sat down. His screens showed more measurements and percentages than his counterparts’. One displayed the calculated length of the rift, one viewed the closing distance between the rift and the ship, another showed the fuel percentage, and the last gave the amount of reserve fuel as well as the emergency fuel. 

“Captain, the scanners are beginning to run a diagnostic on the rift. We should have a full report in less than ten minutes.” Delta reported, he swiped a screen upwards which caused it to reappear in front of me. The scans were slightly over halfway done by the look of it. 

“Alright. Gamma, be on standby for the data upload. Zeta, do a scan on our surroundings for anyone or anything nearby, rifts like these attract more than us. Delta, have the ship stop 300 klicks away from the rift. Omega, prep the ship for dimensional travel.”

“Yes, Captain Alima!” they responded in unison. The sound of fast typing and electric humming filled the control room. Only moments later, a shrill beeping signaled the completion of the scan. 

Delta turned his chair to face me, “Captain, the scans confirm that the rift is fully connected to the other side. Awaiting signal to cross.” 

Gamma only turned his head as he spoke, “Data upload complete, no signs of dangerous activity that this side can detect.”

Zeta half turned his seat for his report, “No signs of life within the vicinity, it appears we got here before anyone else did.”

Omega did not look away from his screens as he reported, “The ships dimensional shields are ready, weapons on standby for anything that may seem dangerous as we cross.”

I nodded my head and smiled, “Thank you all.”

I typed a few things on one of my screens and began a live feed to be broadcast throughout the ship. 

As it prepped, I stood up and straightened my coat, putting on a calm and in-control exterior for my message. 

One screen signaled that I was live and rolling. I began my message, the same one I always did when we passed through rifts, “Salutations, this is your captain speaking. As of now, we have confirmed a stable rift and will be passing through. Any fragile, delicate, or personal belongings should be properly stored during this time. Be warned: passing through dimensional rifts with ships this large may cause turbulence on board. In the likeliness that we will experience such commotion, it is advised that you find nearby support to hold onto. For any newcomers with questions, please ask a nearby counterpart for help and assistance. If any Pines with battle experience could standby at the docking bay, in the possible event that we find dangers awaiting us on the other side of the rift, I would be profoundly grateful. This is your 15-minute warning, please use this time wisely. Thank you for your attention and cooperation during this time. Valedictions.”

The feed was cut and I sat back down, that message was never the exact same every time. Sure, it was always similar, but I never said it precisely the same word for word. It was one of the few things that I could do to ensure that the people on board would be even slightly aware of if my ship was commandeered. If you put in enough effort for common routine and regular behavior, it can be difficult for anyone to copy your work to fool your crew. 

Omega turned away from his station’s screens, all showing live videos from the security cameras throughout the ship. Various Stanfords positioned themselves for the incoming dimensional cross. “Everyone has moved into position. An entire squad of Fords is on standby in the docking bay.”

I nodded my head, “All right then, Delta, set a course through that rift. Omega, Zeta, stay on guard of our surroundings at all times. Gamma, start scanning as we cross and download the gathered data.”

The four Stanfords simultaneously nodded their heads, “Yes, Captain.”

The ship centered in front of the rift, it's transparent rippling almost unseeable to the common eye. The helm’s window screen locked onto the rift’s position and began drawing close to it. 

The moment the ship touched the rift, the effects were felt indefinitely. The ship seemed to freeze and move at fast speeds simultaneously, the space and stars around us seemed to blur into a whirlpool of colors, the air felt heavier and lighter at the same time, these were all the clues that proved this rift was real. Not some illusion or trick of the light, this rift was legit, and it was taking us far from the dimension we had been in. 

As I waited for the ship to fully pass and the colors and sensations to come to a halt, I looked over my helm. Omega and Zeta worked in harmony as they kept a careful watch for anything even remotely dangerous. Gamma read through the data the scanners were picking up with a gleam of joy in his eyes. Delta kept watching our course, his expression is one of an experienced soldier who kept his guard up for anything. 

The ship came to an abrupt halt, a forward jerk signaled the ride was over. 

“Zeta, Omega, Delta, what’s our status?” 

Omega looked over his screens carefully before responding, “There appear to be no dangers in this area. Our scanners aren’t picking up anything.”

Zeta turned his seat around to face me, “I do not sense anything, and nothing is drawing me away or towards it. We seem to have landed in a safe location.”

Delta turned his chair and nodded in agreement with Zeta and Omega. 

“Gamma, is the data sufficient enough for your research?” I asked as my screens began a survey for any other dimensional rifts and possibly a dimensional market or at least a planet associated with dimensional travelers. 

“Yes, this will be perfect.” Gamma was already looking over the data with a calculated and fascinated expression. 

“Good. Delta, give the Fords in the docking bay the all clear, then get to your bed. I don’t want to hear any ifs, ands, or buts from you, other than your butt on your mattress.” 

Zeta and Gamma tried to cover their snorts but were still heard. Omega said nothing but I could see a small smirk make its way to his face. 

Delta signed, “All right, all right,” he typed a bit on his screen then shut down his station a few seconds after, “There. The others are informed. Our sensors are on alert and the autopilot is set to travel straight forward.”

I smiled as Delta walked towards the door, “Thank you for your assistance Delta. Valedictions.” 

He stopped at the threshold and turned his head my way, “To you as well, Captain Alima.”

His boots could be heard walking down the hallway as he left my line of sight. A few minutes later, Gamma downloaded some data onto a drive and pocketed it as he too turned off his station. 

“I’m going to compare this with the other information I’ve gathered,” he said simply. 

“And get some sleep later?” I asked, raising one eyebrow at him.

Gamma chuckled, “Yes, that too.” Gamma kept smiling as he left the control room. 

That left me with Zeta and Omega. The three of us would stay until one of our scanners found something. Then we would set the ship’s course to it and take turns on who stayed at the helm while the others went about the ship. 

To me, this all felt right in some way. Maybe it was because I was missing my husband and his counterparts with me helped fill that void a bit. Or maybe it had to do with my natural leading instincts that I was never able to shake off. I don’t really know and I don’t care what it is, I know it’s right and that's all that matters. 

I looked at my engagement ring, the one Six-fur, my Stanford, had custom made just for me. The metal of the ring was a sparkling silver with seven small sapphires, cut and arranged to look like a six-toed Eevee paw print. That paw was the symbol of us in a way; we met as Eevees in the spacial rift in the Pokemon dimension, we traveled and fell in love, we shared our secrets, we made vows to each other, we became our own family. 

I was born as Alima Ema Tripp, but after I married, I became simply Alima Ema Tripp-Pines; the wife of Stanford Pines. Now I’m on a mission to find my husband again and give him the good news: our little family of two will soon have another member. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the mentioned characters are made up in my head because I couldn't find any that would fit the plot. Let me know what you think in the comments and share this with people you know!


	2. Unexpected Pair

Alima was walking through the gardens of the ship. She had been growing the produce here since she finished getting the ship ready for travel. The garden mostly had items from the Pokemon dimension, but it also had may other strange fruits and vegetables from other dimensions she had visited before. Along the walls were small pots used to grow various herbs and seasonings, each different from the others in color, shape, size, and scent. 

The garden took up a whole floor on the ship, trees even stretched to reach the ceiling. This garden became Alima’s pride and greatest accomplishment since she started this journey. While she did have experience gardening back in her old home in the Pokemon dimension, this was her first time working with an indoor garden in a space ship. Not only that, but she was growing produce from all sorts of dimensions and still maintaining them perfectly. 

The garden level had also become a calming place for Alima to go to for some peace and quiet. Between commanding a ship, avoiding bounty hunters, answering various Stanfords’ questions, and being pregnant, she had a lot on her mind these last two months. 

Alima grabbed an assortment of vegetables with a plan to make a curry dinner for everyone on the ship. While she did not cook every day anymore she did like making at least one meal every once in a while. 

‘Curry and rice will be perfect. A nice balance of grains, veggies, and meat. Maybe I’ll make another batch of creampuffs for dessert too.’

She instinctively placed her hand on her stomach, where her baby grew. Alima was entering her third month of pregnancy, so her cravings were going to be changing more these next few days. 

‘Or maybe I could make mochi? But then I'd have to make rice flour. No, creampuffs will do, I'll just use different fruits to give everyone a bit more variety.’

Alima filled another basket with different fruits ranging from peaches, bananas, Pechu berries, dragon fruit, star fruit, Oran berries, Sitris berries, and a few strawberries. 

‘Yeah, this will do the trick. I wonder if-’

Alima’s thoughts were cut off by Delta, who spoke through the small radio in her front pocket,  _ “Captain! You’re needed at the helm.” _

The captain sighed, “Guess preparations for dinner will have to wait.” She reached for the radio and pressed a button, “I’m on my way, Delta.”

With that, Alima took the two baskets full of veggies and fruits and headed for the hall. She entered the large elevator where she met up with another Stanford. 

“Ah! Snipper, you’re perfect.”

Snipper’s expression changed to confusion, “Um, pardon me, Captain, but what do you mean?”

Alima dumped her load into the Stanford’s hands, who stumbled a bit before regaining his balance. Then, she turned around and pressed the button for the top floor as the elevator door closed.

“Be a gentleman and take those to the kitchen’s walk-in fridge. I plan on cooking as soon as I’m done with some things.”

Snipper blinked a few times, “Um, all right.” he said looking at the produce in his hands and back at the captain a few times. 

Alima silently giggled at Snipper’s reaction, most Stanfords who met her also found her straight-forward personality mind-boggling even after knowing her for a few weeks. Her own husband was just as unsure and confused about her when they first met, but after some time he became curious and accepting as well. 

Snipper was still adjusting even after being on Alima’s ship for almost a month. He came aboard a couple of days after Omega, during a quick getaway from some unexpected newbie bounty hunters. At first, Snipper was just as untrusting as Omega, but he was younger than his silent counterpart so he opened up faster. From what Alima was able to gather in the short amount of time knowing him, Snipper took many jobs as a gun-for-hire, hence why he chose ‘Snipper’ for his moniker. He, like his counterparts, only accepted jobs that were sided with the innocent and avoided unreasonable death. It was one of the admirable qualities that Alima found in all the Stanfords that she met, not one had disappointed her yet. 

Snipper’s attire was a lot like Omega’s but newer and less worn down. His hair still had brown at the top but a dark grey color climbed up the back of his head, reaching four inches and growing. He carried an assortment of guns under his coat, which is to be expected of a snipper. Time and time again Alima would often find Snipper in the training level at the shooting range, practicing non-stop until he hit his mark perfectly. 

The elevator signaled the arrival to the top floor and opened its doors. As Alima stepped off the elevator, she pressed the button for the third level, which was the kitchen and food storage. 

“Don’t get distracted going down and make sure no one eats any of that on the way, okay?” she said with a sweet smile and a tilt of her head. 

Before Snipper could even reply the doors shut and the elevator moved down. Alima turned around and headed for the control room, switching to her serious captain persona on the way. 

Entering the helm, Alima found Delta and Omega at their stations, both working on their screens with calculated and guarded expressions. 

“What is the situation, Delta?” Alima asked as she got into her captain’s seat. Her screens appeared and one showed footage of a cargo ship with low fuel judging by the weak thrusters. Another showed a map, pinpointing her ship’s location with the cargo ship. 

“The incoming cargo ship is sending out a distress signal. I have sent a message to Zeta to get here as soon as possible.” Delta responded, eyes still on his screens. 

“What is the distress signal? Coded or automated?” She asked. 

“Coded,” Omega responded this time, “but it’s not too hard to translate.” 

He swiped one of his screens and it appeared among Alima’s. The screen showed the original signal with the written translation just below it. It read:  _ need help, low fuel, unknown location, _ and it is repeated on a loop. 

“Extremely vague, they might not be easily trusting, or it could be a trap.” Alima looked over the screens grimly. 

Footsteps signaled Zeta’s arrival as he spoke, “Yes, both are possible, but I haven’t felt anything off. Yet.” 

Omega huffed, “Regardless, we can not be caught off guard. Captain, permission to activate code D.” 

“Permission granted,” Alima said without hesitation, “have all available Fords with battle experience organized themselves in Formation A, on docking bay B.”

Omega nodded and went to work on his station, opening a radio frequency to other Stanfords. 

“Delta, open a channel to that ship and link it to my radio. I want to speak with the piolet or captain personally.” 

Delta and Zeta shared a look before Delta obeyed Alima’s command, “As you wish, but you will be accompanied to the docking bay.”

Delta and Zeta clearly knew she was going to greet the cargo ship at the bay, as she always did when they accepted wandering ships onto her own. 

Alima rolled her eyes but said nothing considering they were just worried about her and her child. 

Once her radio was linked to the cargo ship’s channel, Alima stood up and walked out the helm, “I’ll be back shortly. Omega, keep watch over their movements. Zeta, contact me if anything feels off. Delta, let’s go.” 

Delta quickly got up and followed close behind her, Omega and Zeta got to work on their stations immediately after she left the control room. 

When Delta and Alima reached the elevator, her radio signaled that the cargo ship’s passengers had answered. 

Pressing a button on the elevator for the eleventh level which was the docking bay and mechanic workshop, her radio finally patched through to the cargo ship. 

_ “-amn it! Ha! All right now, is this thing working?”  _

Alima was surprised by the gruff voice of the passenger of the cargo ship, it sounded a bit like a Stanford but not at the same time. The voice was much rougher than a Stanford’s and it had an underlying accent to it, Jersey maybe? 

Delta stiffened when he heard the voice, catching Alima’s attention. 

“Sound like someone you know?” She asked in a level but curious tone. 

Delta hesitated but responded, “He… he sounds a lot like Stanley.”

Alima’s eyes widened at that. Her own husband had told her of his brother, Stanley, their childhood together, and their separation during highschool. She had also heard from other Fords that there was a Stanley working for a Cipher in the bounty hunter industry. That Stanley was called ‘Fish’ or ‘Pirahna’ and was said to be ruthless and merciless to any Stanford. 

Still, Alima was willing to give this possible Stanley the benefit of the doubt. After all, inter-dimensionally speaking, Stanley would be her brother-in-law, and she protected her family. 

“We’re already on guard, Delta. Don’t worry.” she said, reassuring him, “Besides, if he is a threat, we can easily defend ourselves. This is a ship full of Fords after all.”

Delta said nothing, his eyes showing he was thinking things over, before nodding in agreement with Alima. She then turned to her radio and switched on the microphone. 

“This is Captain Alima of the  _ Traveler _ . To whom am I speaking to?” Alima spoke in a commanding voice that gave no room for arguing. She learned early in her travels that if you want to be taken seriously, act serious. 

The radio gave static at first before the gruff voice returned, _“This is cargo ship, uh… B9K-... 8HM… 12YA… 2359?_ _Geez, who comes up with these things?”_ the man spoke in a voice that told of someone who was not experienced with space ship cargo protocols, _“We’re low on fuel, and one of our engine thingies is busted. Top it all off, one of us is sick- Oh shut it! You can barely get out of that seat!”_

The next lines were mostly static with a few words getting though, most of it sounded like an argument, as a faint and weaker voice could be heard disagreeing with the man she was speaking to. From the sound of the fight, it seemed the distress signal was given out despite the second person’s wishes. But if this other individual was sick, then he or she would need medical attention. As their ship was, the chances of getting to a populated planet were slim at best. 

She glanced over at Delta, who was listening silently. He seemed conflicted about the situation, or maybe it was about hearing his brother’s voice after so long. Either way, she gave him her best smile, which helped him relax a bit. 

Alima spoke into the mic again, “We have heard your request and can offer you assistance with your ship and your friend. However, there are some protocols you must follow as you board. Are you willing to cooperate with us?” 

There was a moment of silence, likely hesitance, or another argument going on in the cargo ship as they came to a decision. As the elevator reached the ninth level, the gruff man responded. 

_ “We’re willing to listen to your protocols or whatever, on the condition you don’t try to kill us on the spot. Yes, that’s what you said… oh, apologies for not using your nerd words, but I don’t have a dictionary in my brain like you… would you calm down, Sixer? I know what I’m doing.”  _

Delta gasped as Alima’s eyes widened at the name. There was no doubt, aboard that cargo ship was a Stanley and a Stanford. 

Alima stepped out of the elevator upon arrival, Delta falling a step behind her, and walked up to the railing. She was positioned in the center with a staircase on either side of the platform she stood at. Along the stairs were many armed Stanfords, all with their faces covered and weapons loaded, waiting for her next signal or command. Docking bay B was clear, a few other ships, ranging in size, shape, color, and design, were scattered around with some other armed Fords strategically placed behind them on standby. 

“Kill the lights from the stairway and up, keep the spotlights on the bay door, and on the cargo ship. Boys,” Alima commanded, “looks like we’re getting another Ford with a special surprise.” 

A few Stanfords looked up at her, some with confusion and others uncertain but they simultaneously nodded and faced the bay door. All the lights went out safe for the docking bay door lights and Alima took a deep breath before turning on her mic. 

“Listen closely, we are opening a bay door for you to dock your ship in. Once the bay is closed, you and your accomplice are to come out slowly and any weapons you have should be either left on the ship or where we can see them. If your friend needs help, then just come out unarmed.” 

A moment of silence passed before the Stanley replied,  _ “Alright, but you better not shoot us on site. Can it, Poindexter! We’re doin’ this an’ that’s final!... I don’t like being defenseless either, but unless you got any better ideas in that brain of yours, this is all we got.”  _

The few Stanfords who were able to hear the Stanley stiffened or tensed, Alima could hear some that even gasped quietly. But she gave them a calm and reassuring smile and they all relaxed slightly. 

Alima turned to a Stanford at a control panel above the platform, “Open bay door B, activate the air barrier and keep oxygen levels steady.” she commanded. 

The Stanford nodded and got to work. Not two minutes later, the cleared bay’s door opened and a transparent blue forcefield bubbled the space around the bay, keeping the air in for the people aboard to breathe. 

The cargo ship was tiny compared to the  _ Traveler  _ and looked like it had been through better days. The engines were stuttering and sheets of metal were missing, revealing sparking wires and malfunctioning parts. It was a miracle that the ship was still moving. 

After many anxious minutes, the cargo ship finally touched down and powered off. The Stanford at the control panel sealed the bay door and put the barrier down, making everyone armed point their weapons at the ship’s exit, waiting for its passengers to come out. 

Not two minutes later, the cargo ship opened and the sound of heavy steps could be heard. Once the two men were in view, the few Fords closest to the ship blocked their way. 

“Walk slowly towards us,” one of the Fords, Major, an army enforced counterpart of Alima’s husband, commanded, “have your eyes faced forward, and no sudden movements.” 

The two hesitantly complied and slowly came into the small opening that was surrounded by armed, masked Fords. Now that they were out for everyone to see, Alima could make out distinguishing features of the Ford and his brother. 

The Stanford was sickly if his pale skin and unfocused, baggy eyes were anything to go by. His attire was black and worn, it was clear to see every patch, stitch, and tear in his clothing. His glasses were ridiculously cracked and his long hair was light grey at the bottom roots, dark grey along the back of his head and sideburns, and dark brown remained stubbornly at the top of his head. 

His brother, the Stanley counterpart, was not in much better condition. His skin was slightly pale and the bags under his eyes were visible, though not as bad as his brother’s. His hair was long and tied back in a ponytail with what looked like some kind of thin rope. His left eye was covered with a black eye patch, leaving only his right eye to observe his surroundings. His clothing was just as worn as the Stanford’s if not more so. 

All in all, it seemed these two had been through a lot together, and possibly would not be here if it were not for the other. 

Major made a hand gesture for two other Stanfords, who carefully put their weapons aside and reached for their flashlights. 

The two brothers tensed but relaxed once they saw what the Fords had reached for and allowed their eyes to be examined. The Stanley flinched when the Ford was reaching for his eye patch, which caused the masked man to stiffen and hesitate, but Stanley flipped the patch himself. A metal robotic eye was placed where a human eye should have been, upon seeing it, the Ford backed off as he was satisfied and slightly saddened by the discovery. 

“He’s severely dehydrated and sleep-deprived,” the other Ford, the one tasked with checking Stanley’s sick brother announced, “judging by his strength, I’d say he’s also malnourished. No signs of Cipher.” 

“Stanley’s Bill-free as well,” the Ford tasked to Stanley said, turning to Major, “and he’s also not doing so well. He’s not as bad as Ford, but he was getting there.” 

“Wait a minute,” Stanley tensed, “how do ya know our names?” 

Both he and his brother took a slight step back but paused when they heard Alima lightly chuckle from the platform, making them look up in her direction. 

“You will find, Stanley Pines, that we should know you,” Alima said calmly, “regardless of the universe you hail from.” 

Before either of them could reply, Alima looked up to the bay’s control room and commanded, “Hit the lights, and get a signal to Doc, I want these two in perfect health a week from today. The rest of you, arms down. And someone get Mechanic and Tinker in here! That ship needs parts yesterday!” 

The lights came on and all the Fords relaxed, putting away their weapons. Alima began walking down the right stairway, Delta just a step behind her. 

The twin brothers watched her as she came down, both had similar expressions of surprise. Alima held back a laugh, a lot of newcomers were surprised when they first saw her as well. ‘A woman running a ship full of armed men? She must be dangerous when angry.’ That was usually the basic thought that passed a Pines’ mind when they first see her. 

“Do not be alarmed, Pines twins,” she said to the flabbergasted Pines, “you are among allies if you are enemies of the Ciphers. Have no fear, as you are among yourself, or at least, Ford is.” 

Both of the newbies blinked before the others around them began to remove their goggles and masks, revealing the many faces of Stanford Fillbrick Pines. 

“What the?” Stanley slowly turned his head to get a wide view of all the versions of his brother that were coming out of their masks. His brother was also speechless as he saw his counterparts, likely amazed there were so many in one place and the universe was not warping around them. That or shattering to a million pieces, erasing all of existence, or some other crazy theory of counterparts encountering each other. 

“I’m sure you have many questions for us,” Alima spoke again, regaining the twins’ attention, “and we have our own for you. But for now, you two need to get to the med lab. We can talk more once you are well-rested and in much healthier condition.” 

Alima turned to Major, now unmasked with his light gray hair hanging in a low ponytail, “Get a couple of Fords to guide them to the med lab, I’ll have Gamma come to them later for a briefing.” 

Major nodded and turned to select two Fords from the ones surrounding them. 

Alima faced the two worn men once more and smiled, “Salutations, my name is Alima Pines, I’m the captain of this ship, the  _ Traveler _ . I hope you enjoy your time aboard, cause this place can get interesting sometimes.”

Alima playfully smirked at the twins’ flabbergasted faces and turned back to the stairs, waving a hand in the air with Delta following behind her, “I’m making curry for dinner, so if you feel better later, stop by the kitchen, I promise, I’m a much better cook than the science nerds on board.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Be honest now!
> 
> BTW: for any of you who have read Gravity Falls Mashup, my Blind Faith twins are not the same as CrossingTheFourthWall's, they're alternates! 
> 
> Just so we're clear!


	3. Settling In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos!

_ “Um… what are you doing?”  _

_ “Covering us up silly.”  _

_ “Is there a reason why you’re so… close?”  _

_ “Well, it’s getting colder so we’ll be warmer if we stay close. You know, share body heat, or is it fur heat?” _

_ “Erm, body heat is the term, and I know that but… don’t you find this a bit… awkward?” _

_ “No, should I?”  _

_ “...... you are strangely confusing.”  _

**_*yawn*,_ ** _ “Yeah, I get that sometimes… I just don’t see the reasons to be awkward, or embarrassed or even guarded at certain times… I mean… it’s logical for us to sleep together since the temperature is dropping… and it’s not like you’re a weirdo or anything… so this… is… perfectly… fine...”  _

_ “... huh, I guess you’re right. I’ve just never met a person like you before, Alima.” _

_ “.........”  _

_ “Hehe, good night.”  _

* * *

“Alright, it seems you both should make fast recoveries. You’re lucky we were in the vicinity, I don’t think you would have lasted another two days.” 

“Yeah, yeah, Ford, er, other Ford, but can we get some answers?” Stanley asked frustratedly to Doc, who was typing away at the holo-screen computer next to his cot. 

Doc looked at Stanley with a slightly conflicted expression then turned to face Ford who had remained silent throughout the whole exam. 

“Gamma will be down soon,” Doc told Ford mostly, choosing to avoid eye contact with Stanley, “he’ll answer all your questions and then ask you some. You don’t have to worry, he just wants enough information to tell what kind of universe you belong to. He does this for all of us on board.” 

“Hey, buddy,” Stanley snapped, “I told you, I do the talking for the both of us, leave Sixer alone.” 

Doc flinched a bit at the silent Ford’s nickname, if it was not for the fact that the whole ship was Bill-proof, he would have been over-paranoid and assume Stanley was in contact with Cipher. 

Before Doc could reply, the med lab’s door opened, revealing Gamma with a portable holo-computer under his arm. 

“Greetings, to avoid confusion, I go by Gamma on this ship. I trust you feel at least somewhat better than earlier.” 

“Yeah, havin’ water is amazing. Now listen close, cause I hate repeatin’ myself,” Stanley growled, “I do the talking for both of us. Poindexter doesn’t talk much and he ain’t gonna answer ya if ya ask him anythin’, so don’t bother.” 

Gamma looked over to Stanley’s brother who shied away and avoided eye contact. Gamma turned to Doc who locked eyes with him and the doctor gave a nod of conformation. 

“All right,” Gamma said, “I think we can work with that. Doc, if you wouldn’t mind?” 

Doc nodded, “Yes, yes, I’ll leave you alone. If they’re both feeling well enough to walk, bring them up for dinner. It would be a shame if they missed Alima’s cooking.” 

Gamma chuckled, “Yes, that would be a shame.” 

Doc walked out the door, leaving Gamma with the newest passengers of the  _ Traveler _ . 

Gamma took a chair from Doc’s desk and sat in front of the brothers, turning his holo-screen on in the process. 

“All right, first things first, you both need to be briefed on where you are. This is the  _ Traveler,  _ it belongs to Captain Alima and, trust me, it’s completely Bill-proof. Over the last two months, it has become a safe place for Fords of all universes. We’re fully stocked on all supplies: food, medical, or otherwise. We’ve taken to training and helping each other when we can and often assisting other versions of us in getting away from bounty hunters.” 

Stanley snorted, “I could have figured all that out. But what’s with that Captain chick? How’s she running everything?” 

Gamma smirked, “Don’t ever let her hear you call her ‘chick’ or any nickname for that matter. She can wipe the floor with any of us on this ship and trust me, you don’t want to make her mad.” 

Stan and Ford’s eyes widened, “You’re kidding me.” 

“Nope,” Gamma smiled fondly while shaking his head, “ask Delta if you don’t believe me. He challenged Alima for her title of Captain not long after he came aboard. It was amusing and terrifying to watch.” 

The twins blinked and turned to each other before Stanley spoke again, “Okay, I might be willing to believe that. But how’s she a Pines? She didn’t look like anyone in the family.” 

Gamma’s fond smile turned into a fond and playful grin, “You also might not believe this, but she’s actually married to a Stanford.” 

“WHAT?!” Stanley shouted while his brother’s jaw dropped to the floor, “So she’s, like, a sister-in-law?! From another reality?! Seriously?!” 

“Technically, she’s from another  _ universe _ ”, Gamma corrected, “but yes, she is essentially an interdimensional sister-in-law.” 

“Technically nothin’!” Stan laid down on the med bay’s cot, “Woah, I thought seein’ an army of Fords was crazy, that’s insane!” 

Stanley’s twin absently nodded, eyes wide in amazement and disbelief. 

Gamma nodded with a smirk, “Yes, that is the most common reaction when we hear of this. Some onboard still have doubts but when you see how well she knows about Fords, you tend to believe it.” 

“Let me guess,” Stanley gave Gamma a sly smirk, “she’s the kind of gal that keeps all of you in line, like Ma.” 

Gamma blinked then hunched over as he laughed, “Wow, that’s, wow, that never even crossed my mind! Yes, she is a lot like Ma. Everything makes sense!” 

Stan kept smirking, “Well, when you think about it, she has to be, ta keep you nerds from overthinking so much.” 

Stan eyed Ford as he said that and Ford huffed with a blush. 

“What? You know it’s true. You think so much you forget that sleep is a thing, Poindexter.” 

Ford looked at his twin with furrowed eyebrows and an accusing look in his eyes. 

“Oh, come on, I may need to be knocked down a peg once in a while, but you’re the one that needs to come out of your brain.” 

Gamma held his chin in his hand as he watched the two talk, “Fascinating.” 

Stand and Ford looked at Gamma and he explained, “How you communicate. Your brother is only using facial expressions so far and you seem to understand him as if he were speaking full sentences. Do the two of you have telepathy or some kind of-” 

Stan raised his hands up in surrender as Ford ducked his head, “Easy, easy, first off, no, we ain’t psychic. Normally, we just say it’s a ‘twin thing’, but really, I’ve been with Sixer for so long now that I know what he’s thinking just by looking at his face. Trust me, you nerds are easy to read.” 

Ford glared at Stanley, “What? You know it’s true.” 

Gamma tilted his head in his hand, “So, your brother is… mute? How did that happen?” 

Ford ducked his head again and rubbed his hands. Stan frowned and reached to place a hand over Ford’s. “Hey, it’s alright.” 

Stan looked over to Gamma with a stern expression, “Ford ain’t mute, he can talk, he just chooses not to.” 

“Why?” Gamma asked, confused. 

Ford looked to be mentally debating with his thoughts before he gripped Stan’s hand tightly and softly said, “T-This i-i-i-isn’t-t-t th-th-the bes-s-s-t w-w-ay-y t-t-o-o-o-” 

“Alright, I’m gonna stop ya there, Sixer,” Stan returned Ford’s grip and turned to Gamma, “when we fell through the portal in Ford’s basement, Ford saw things that spooked him pretty good. Ever since then, he’s been stuttering a lot with his words.” 

Gamma looked shocked and grim, he typed a bit on his screen, then paused as a thought came to him, “How come you were not affected by it?” 

“What, me?” Stan asked, then waved a hand in the air, “The first thing Ford did when we landed was blindfold me. Which was stupid since I’m the only one of us who knows how to fight and some monster damn near ate Sixer. Anyway, he didn’t let me see anything until we fell through a plot hole-”, Ford jabbed Stan with his eyes stern, “Okay, okay, we fell through a  _ space rift _ or something nerdy like that. Anywho, we fell through to another weird planet, got equipt to space travel, and we’ve been hopping places ever since.” 

Gamma typed a bit then looked over to the silent Ford with his eyebrows furrowed. He hesitated, then asked, “Does he know about… Him?” 

Ford ducked his head a bit but nodded and Stanley replied, “Yeah, I know about the Dorito demon. And that jerk is gonna get a left hook if he gets anywhere near Ford again, ya hear?” 

Gamma raised his hands in surrender at Stanley’s pointed finger, “You don’t have to worry about him here. As I said before, the entire ship is Bill-proof. Anything directly connected to Cipher is rejected from the barrier.” 

“How does that work anyway?” Stanley asked with Ford sharing his doubting expression, “I thought the Nacho Nightmare showed up when you sleep.” 

Gamma frowned, “He does. But fortunately, like any magical being, he has weaknesses and items that cancel out his power. Alima had the whole ship covered in the same metal that protects us,” Gamma knocked on the side of his head, which caused a metal clanking to be heard for the twins, “and also found a rare spell that keeps Ciphers from entering certain areas. Both physically and mentally.” 

Ford seemed to relax a bit and Stan’s tension lessened some, “That’s good. Which means,” Stan turned to glare at his Ford, “that you aren’t chickening out on sleep anymore.” 

Ford huffed but nodded. Stanley faced Gamma again, “Anything else we need to know?” 

“Yes, actually,” Gamma moved his holo screen closer to himself, “there are a few protocols established here for certain events. You both will need to know each and what to do in those events. But first, you will need monikers.” 

Stanley’s only organic eye widened, “Like, codenames?” His childish awe was not unnoticed by Gamma or his twin, who shook his head with a fond smile. 

Gamma smiled, “Yes, Stanely, codenames. Everyone onboard has one. You probably won’t need-” 

“Like hell!” Stan shouted grinning, “Of course I want in on this! Codenames! Aw man, this is awesome! I could be Cyborg, or-”, Ford cut him off by tapping Stan’s shoulder and signed something when Stanley faced him. Gamma barely remembered much of the few signs he learned in his younger years, but he could tell Ford was spelling out a name. It was a good one because Stanley grinned widely after he finished. 

“Oh, that’s perfect!” Stan leaned over and wrapped an arm around his twin’s shoulders, who smiled and patted his arm before they separated, “Call me Cyclops!” 

Gamma smiled, partly expecting such a name as he typed on his screen, “Alright, Cyclops it is. And for your Ford, how about-”, Gamma had to stop speaking as Ford waved his hands to catch his attention. The silent counterpart signed something again, but stopped once he saw Gamma’s sheepish expression. 

“I’m sorry,” Gamma apologized as he rubbed a hand behind his head, “I don’t remember much sign language.” 

Cyclops smirked and translated, “He said he’s goin’ by Sixer.” 

Gamma frowned and put his hand down, “Are you sure?” 

Cyclops waved a hand, “Look, you said this place is triangle proof, ergo, no one should get any ideas with it. Besides, it was  _ my _ nickname for you nerds before that yellow conman-wannabe came around.” 

Gamma thought for a moment, then sighed as he went back to typing, “Alright, but be warned: it may take some time for the others to be one-hundred percent comfortable with it.” 

“Yeah, yeah, you nerds and your paranoidness-” 

“ _ Paranoia _ .” 

“Whatever,” Cyclops continued, “is gonna take time ta get over. I know. It took years for Sixer to calm down, but I can wait a long time.” 

Gamma had to stop himself from flinching at what that meant for the twins. He distracted himself by returning to the main purpose of his visit, “So, another thing that we do on here, or I do, is comparing our alternate worlds. I gather data from each alternate we encounter and file and compare to everything we have. Can you tell me a bit about your past?” 

The next three and a half hours were spent discussing the differences in the twins’ world, explaining the protocols on the ship, informing the twins of the main Stanfords in charge of the ship, and mapping out the various different levels of the  _ Traveler _ and their contents. Gamma managed to get some details of a few worlds the twins had been to but nothing too close to the start of their journey. Gamma felt that was best considering the dark and far off look on his counterpart’s face at every mention of their ‘first jump’. Once Gamma had everything he needed for his data and research, he put away his holo screen and headed out the entrance. 

“There are individual bathrooms near every cot,” Gamma told the twins as he stopped at the door, “you best use the showers and freshen up a bit. There are separate washers and dryers for your clothes and trust me, they are easy to work. When you’re done, head to the elevator down the hall and get to level five, that’s where the sleeping quarters are. We’ll get you situated and Alima should be done with dinner soon. Trust me, you don’t want to miss it. She doesn’t cook everyday so most of the time we stick to quick-and-easy meals to avoid lighting the kitchen on fire.” 

Gamma nervously laughed at that last part and Cyclops grinned, “You nerds still burn water?” 

“Most of us do.” Gamma admitted then smiled and left the twins’ sight. 

After they were sure Gamma was gone, the traveling twins assisted each other in getting to the closest shower without tripping. They may have spent a bit longer than needed in the showers but it had been some time since they had running, hot water to wash with. Their clothes were cleaned with little problem, the washing and drying machines were surprisingly Earth-like, and soon they left the med lab together. 

The elevator buttons were thankfully written in Earth numbers, Sixer hypothesized that Alima had everything made as Earth-like as possible considering the passengers she acquired, and they made it to level five where they got a good look at what they just got into. 

Once they stepped out of the elevator, they saw Fords of every age around the hall alone. Some were talking in groups of two or more, others were walking from one open entrance to another, and a few were just standing silently in the hall watching others around them or with their eyes closed. Some of the quieter Fords noticed them first, staring mostly at Cyclops like he was an offense or a rare species of alien. It was not much longer before some of the other Fords caught sight of the pair, which caught their conversationalists’ attention and made them turn to see the newest arrivals. 

Many of the Stanfords looked at Cyclops with expressions of guilt, anger, sadness, or grim awe. Cyclops could guess what every version of his brother was thinking as they stared at him. 

‘Is that really Stanley?’ 

‘How did  _ he _ end up out here?’ 

‘What happened to his eye?’ 

‘Did that knucklehead need to end up here too?’ 

‘Was this really a possibility? Fall through together?’ 

‘Would my brother be the same if it was us?’ 

The floor had become so silent that new Fords walked out of different hall entrances to see what was going on and they too joined the others in staring at the only Stanley on board. 

‘Maybe we were better off in space,’ Cyclops thought as he felt like a side-show attraction. Then the one-eyed bother felt Sixer grip his arm and try to hide behind him. Figuring out what his brother was feeling, seeing, Cyclops’ only eye widened and he quickly turned around, gripped Sixer’s hands, and instantly locked eyes with his nervous twin. 

“Hey, hey,” Cyclops whispered, but all the Fords within a ten-foot radius could hear him, “don’t think about that. Remember what Gamma said? He can’t get here. He can’t see. We’re safe, Sixer. I’m here. Wherever we go, we go together. Okay?” 

Sixer quickly calmed down and many of the Stanfords managed to put together what their counterpart was going through. A lot of them headed into different hall openings while others turned back to their groups and directed themselves or their attention elsewhere. 

Just as Sixer finally got out of his little scare, the elevator opened and another Stanford stepped out. He was young, in his early thirties, with no signs of grey hair, yet. He still had his original coat from when he first fell through the portal, but he had long gotten a grey turtleneck and black pants. His shirt and coat had stains from oils, fuels, some patches were burned a bit but nothing was falling apart. He was clearly a Ford with more experience in mechanical works and electronics. 

He saw the twins and the slowly decreasing crowd and put two and two together. He calmly walked up to both brothers, coming into their sight from the side, and warmly smiled. 

“Greetings,” he warmly welcomed, “I’m called Tinker around here.” 

The twins faced Tinker for a moment before he continued, “Gamma informed me of your monikers. I’ll be showing you around a bit before dinner. First, we best choose your beds.” 

Tinker walked down the hall and the twins followed him down, walking past three openings and turning at the fourth on the left wall. He ignored most of the Stanfords glancing at them and walked to the right side of the large room. 

The ‘room’, if you could call it that, was filled with large bunk bed pods surrounding the walls and lining in three rows in the center. All the pods were made of random wood in all different shades of brown, black, white, grey, and even some yellow. The top bunks were secured with wooden poles every couple inches and instead of ladders like normal bunks had, there were wooden stairs. Each bunk had a large mattress, possibly a queen size, a shelf in the top corner, a couple of pillows, and blankets. There was a space between the mattress and each bunk’s wall, which seemed to serve many Stanfords in a storage space for their bags. 

Tinker stopped at a bunk next to the ones against the right corner, “Each bed comes with basically everything you will need and with this,” Tinker leaned into the bottom bunk and pressed a small plank of wood, which popped out like a door and revealed an assortment of different alien electric sockets, “anything electric you have can be recharged here as well. And this,” Tinker moved to the staircase next to the bunk and lifted one of the steps that caused three of the steps to move upward, revealing a space for larger items, “can hold anything that won’t fit in the space between the bed. Most of us use these to hide our weapons.” 

Tinker lowered the step-door and turned to the twins while pointing towards the far left corner, “The toiletries are back there, but showers are on level eight, the washroom.” He looked back at the twins and asked, “Any questions you have?” 

Cyclops looked around, not making eye contact with any of the Fords glancing at him and his brother, then turned back to Tinker and asked, “How long can people stay on here?” 

“However long you need,” Tinker explained with a smile, “I myself have been here for about a week but others have been here since the first day the  _ Traveler _ took off. Captain Alima considers every alternate she encounters her family and welcomes them as such. Though if you want to leave you are free to do so at any time. Many others have taken off on planets with interdimensional connections or have simply taken a repaired ship and continued on their way.” 

“Just like that? No catch?” Cyclops asked with an unsure look in his good eye. Sixer seemed to be questioning the same. 

But Tinker only smiled, “No catch. After all, as Alima says, ‘family needs to look out for each other’.” 

Cyclops’ good eye widened and so did Sixer’s as they glanced at each other. Both were trying to process this and believe it after all they had been through. 

Before Tinker could say anything more, an announcement was made,  _ “All free passengers to level four. The captain has just finished dinner. All free passengers head to level four for dinner. It’s Alima’s curry and rice tonight.”  _

Every Ford in sight quickly headed out the room and down the hall, likely towards the elevator or stairs. Tinker smirked at Cyclops and Sixer’s surprised faces as Cyclops said, “They really weren’t kiddin’ with missing out. Is she that good a cook?” 

“Oh, yes,” Tinker replied as he too headed out the sleeping quarters with the twins on his heel, “considering Alima is the only one on board who knows how to cook without setting anything on fire. No one willingly misses out on one of her home-cooked meals, ever.” 

Cyclops huffed a chuckle, “What do you nerds eat when she doesn’t cook?” 

Tinker thought for a moment, “She usually makes enough leftovers to feed all of us for three days. After that, we mostly stick to simple things like sandwiches, canned soups, and food bars. Other than that, Alima stocks fresh fruit every other day and we snack on those.” 

“Why am I not surprised?” Cyclops gave a sly grin. 

Tinker returned the one-eyed twin’s expression with his own lopsided smirk. By the time the three of them got to the elevator, the hall had been cleared of bystanders, all of them long gone up to the fourth floor, if not by elevator than by hurrying up the stairs. 

When they entered the fourth level, the twins were shocked by the long line of Stanfords waiting patiently and anxiously for their plates. The line stretched across the open floor and those who had their plates were scattered around the spacious level. 

The farthest side of the room seemed to be mainly a dining area. Long wooden tables and metal chairs stood in lines, already being filled with Fords that were enjoying their meals with smiles and talking contently with their counterparts. There were a few large windows, most were about ten feet tall and five feet wide with two feet of normal wall divining each. Others were three feet tall and stretched almost fifteen feet across, those were placed strategically over wooden bar tables with many Stanfords sitting with their plates to the side and writing away in their notebooks or journals. The windows did well in revealing the vast space outside the ship, adding a decorative charm to the open space. Some spots on the level were lounge areas with comfortable couches, armchairs, and coffee tables. Those were mostly ignored since eating there would be hard, but they added a homey feeling. A few more, smaller tables were placed around the spaces that were not lounge areas and they were slowly being used as the line died down some. 

After what seemed like half an hour, the twins finally made it to the serving table, which was just a dining table that was not being used. Large pots, slightly less than half the size of the captain, were still steaming hot after the wait. Some of the emptied ones were placed behind the woman on a metal shelving unit on wheels. Two alternate Stanfords assisted the female captain with the heavy lifting and serving as she prepped two more large plates and smiled at the twins as they walked up. 

“Hope you both like curry and rice,” Captain Alima smiled warmly, scooping curry onto a plate of rice, “it’s one of the dishes I’ve mastered over the years.” 

Cyclops blinked and took the plate she handed to him as she filled another for Sixer. 

Both their mouths were watering from the smell of spice, veggies, and beef-like meat. It had been a very long time since they had a properly cooked dinner. 

“Eat to your fill boys, there’s plenty to go around,” Alima said as she smiled and handed Sixer his plate, “and don’t be shy, if there’s anything you need, just ask.” 

Sixer and Cyclops glanced at each other then smiled back at her. Maybe this could work for them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the Portal Stans became members of the ship's multiversal Pines crew! 
> 
> And hey, after going so long on who knows what, a good homecooked meal is enough to make anyone want to stay awhile. 
> 
> Am I right? 
> 
> Also, the inspiration for the 'bedrooms' came from Pod Share. Look it up and see for yourselves how cool it is!


	4. How It Started

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A better glimpse of the past! Please leave kudos!

“Heya, Cap?” 

Alima looked up from the book she was reading on a sofa in a lounge area. It was Cyclops who had spoken up from an armchair across the coffee table. He was without his coat and other parts of his full attire, settling for just his long-sleeved shirt and pants, his belt still had some weapons though. His brother, on the other hand, still kept his full uniform on no matter what. Sixer sat on a table behind him, writing some things down in his journal silently with little distractions. 

The two had been getting along well with the others on her ship. After a couple of weeks, the Stanfords had adjusted to their brothers’ counterpart since their own alternate trusted him more than them. Some still avoided Cyclops when they could and others didn’t bother being in the same level as Stanley, but no one was picking a fight or starting anything and that was all Alima could ask for. 

“Yes, Cyclops?” Alima replied with a smile. Something about Cyclops just made her feel happier. She chalked it up to getting to know an alternate of her husband’s brother since that was what she wanted from the moment Six-fur had talked about him. 

“I’ve been wondering,” he tilted his head to one side with an interesting look in his good eye, “how did you start all of this?” 

Cyclops gestured to the room around them and said, “Setting up a ‘safe place’ for Fords can’t be that easy.” 

Sixer looked over to them, hearing his brother’s question and becoming curious himself. 

Alima chuckled, “Well, that’s an interesting, complex, and long story. Not sure if you’d like it.” 

Cyclops grinned, “Oh, come on, it’s gotta be good. Plus, I’m not doin’ anything, so I’ve got time to hear it.” 

Alima thought for a moment, then nodded and placed the book in her lap, “Alright, but remember, I can not guarantee it will be an exciting tale.” 

Cyclops grinned as he got comfortable in his seat and Sixer moved down from the table to the armchair next to his brother. 

The wedded Pines smiled and thought back, “It really started before my husband left through a dimensional rip to continue his journey to destroy his Bill Cipher.” 

“Why leave after you two got married?” Cyclops questioned, “I mean, you should’ve been settled down after the weddin’, right?” 

She smiled sadly, “Yes, we were living in a nice, large cottage outside of Unova. He had taken up there as a scientist to research the reasons why the Pokemon of that region remained near isolated from others. I also acquired a small Ph.D. and took time as his partner and assistant in the field. The fact that I reminded him of food and sleep were just added bonuses.” 

Alima giggled, recalling fond memories of those happier times. 

“Before we married, we were sure Stanford was stuck in the Pokemon dimension. There had not been any natural portals, rifts, or tears to go through. It was one of the reasons Six felt it was safe for us to be engaged. If there was no way out, he would not have to face Cipher. He did not have to worry about leaving me behind and never seeing me again.” 

The room was oddly quiet, Alima suspected other Stanfords were listening in on her tale. They too had been curious for some time but no one had asked her directly before. 

“The day we found a dimensional tear was one I will never forget.” 

* * *

“Six! Come on, we’ll miss the Swanna migration if you keep stopping at every sighting of a pokemon.” 

“Ali, you never know when we’ll encounter a new pokemon. We have to be vigilant.” 

Alima huffed as she placed a hand on her hip, looking annoyed at her husband, “If we see a new pokemon, we will be vigilant. But in case you forgot, the city hall wants your report on this migration the day after tomorrow. Tomorrow! You know how they get when you’re late!” 

Ford flinched, remembering a few of the times he was late in turning in his reports. The women of the industry were especially scary. 

“I remember, don’t worry,” he raised his hands in a calming gesture, “and I’ve already done most of the report. We just need notes on the actual migration and their take off.” 

His wife sighed, “Guess that will help. But you better not pull another all-nighter. Otherwise, I will revoke your pastry and jellybean privileges.” 

Stanford gained a terrifying expression that had Alima grinning pleasantly, “Not the jellybeans! Come on, Ali! Just a couple of hours?” 

Alima looked over her shoulder as she kept walking up the hill in the forest. Her husband worked his way through the forest floor, somehow keeping his snow-white lab coat from getting torn or snagging. He still wore red turtleneck sweaters and a pair of cargo pants no matter where they went. Safe a few special date nights to exclusive restaurants when he would wear a nice red dress shirt and pants. 

Despite his lack of self-care and constant ignorance of proper timing, she still loved that thirty-eight-year-old man. She was happily married to that genius fool for three years and proudly traveled the Spacial Rift with him three years before that. 

“Go to bed at a decent hour and you’ll have nothing to worry about.” 

She smirked slyly to herself as she heard the frustrated and worried groan of her husband. They continued up the hill and reached a peak when they heard something odd. 

It was a sound that clearly did not come from a pokemon. It was muffled but oddly easy to hear. It had a low hum and an almost warping echo. Almost like… 

Just as Alima connected the sound to the possible source, Stanford made a dash in the south-east direction. She followed after him in a sprint, keeping his lab coat in her sight as they diverged off the set path. When Ford finally came to a stop, Alima’s eyes were wide as saucers. 

There, just a few feet ahead of them, was a spot in the forest that was waving like a curtain in the wind. A tear, an opening, in the fabric of space. A portal. 

“I… I can… I can leave… ” 

* * *

“I had never felt simultaneously happy for him and angry at him till that day. I was happy… because that meant his worries, of being unable to defeat Bill, were partly over. But I was angry… because he was happy, and leaving everything we had behind.” 

Alima could feel the eyes of her audience on her, the silence of the level was deafening and even maddening as they all listened to her. 

Despite her obvious sadness, Alima still smiled, much to the confusion of her husband’s counterparts and the frustration of Cyclops. 

“What’d he do next?” Stanley asked through gritted teeth, clearly holding back rage towards her husband. 

Alima locked eyes with him, still smiling, “He didn’t just hop through and not look back if that’s what you’re wondering. No, my husband spent some time staring at it before throwing a rock into it to test its stability. Much to my selfish relief, it popped back out, in pieces. Six decided to return the next day to re-test it and possibly pack that night. We finished the report that day but we barely spoke during that time. We returned to test that portal every day for four days after, and finally, it didn’t spit anything out. I think we stood in front of it for an hour before we headed back to the house… We talked as he got ready… It was the first time I had begged to anyone before...”

* * *

“Do you have to go?” I knew the answer, but I was buying time, trying to stop this from happening now, “You could wait for the next one. We could finish your project here.” 

That project was the large gun he was packing. State of the art tech pieced together from the most advanced dimensions he had passed through. I knew the Pokemon dimension couldn’t finish it, but I was desperate. 

“Alima, I have to go.” Six responded without looking at me. His back was turned as he packed weapons on his person. The old coat he wore before getting his Ph.D. in this dimension was worn, but good. The white lab coat was folded neatly at the head of our bed as he replaced it with his old one. “This could be the only chance I have and I don’t want to risk waiting years for the next stable rift.”

“What about your work?” I was getting angry, but I shouldn’t have been, “What about the research?!” I felt awful, like nothing we did matters anymore with the rift here. “What about us?!!” I was crying then. I thought he was throwing me away. 

“...... Alima, you can’t come with me.” He didn’t look at me, but his voice was void of emotion. “He is too dangerous and…” Six was proud, a Pines, I know he didn’t want to cry. “I don’t want him to go after you to get to me.”

“I can fight him-WE can fight him!” I wanted us to stay together, no matter the dangers that would bring us. “We could work together and stop him for good! You know how strong I am! You know the experience I have!” I had told him everything about myself. I hadn’t missed a detail and made sure there were no secrets between us. So he DID know I could, but... 

“But you don’t know Bill as well as I do. You don’t know his tricks or how he thinks.” Six was right, but I couldn’t listen. I was getting hysterical. 

“You can teach me! You can TELL me! Please, Six, please, just take me with you!” I had turned him around forcefully, locking eyes with the man I had trusted everything to. I knew he could see my tears as I was seeing his form at the corners of his eyes. 

“... My dear, I wish I could…” he sounded so sad and guilty then, “but I won’t let Cipher get anywhere near you.” But he was stubborn as pine… and protective. I should have known not to argue, but I loved him. “Please, try to understand this much: I need to do this, but most of all, I need to know you’re safe.”

“... please…” I didn’t want it to happen again, “please…” I grabbed his coat somehow, gripping his chest and begged, “you can’t leave me…” after all this time, I thought something could be permanent, “not you too…” everyone before Six had long left me, I felt broken, “please Stanford… don’t go...” 

“...” Six didn’t speak right away, knowing I never used his real name unless I was serious or scared. And right then, I was both. I had told him everything, so he knew what I was talking about. What I was really scared of. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer and hugging me warmly, “… I don’t want to, Ali…” my nickname… the one he gave me, “but I have to… for my universe, and even the multiverse, I have to defeat him.”

He was right like he always was with these things. I couldn’t keep him, that would have been too selfish. He needed to do what he needed to do. Mama and Papa taught me better than to get in the way of someone’s destined path. 

I buried my face into his chest, my grip slacking on his clothes that soaked my flood of tears, “... don’t forget me...” That was all I needed to know. All the others had forgotten, moved on, and thought everything was nothing. I couldn’t handle that from Six-fur, after coming so far. 

He leaned into my hair, whispering, lovingly, “I could never forget the one I love, Alima.” 

I broke, bawled like a baby in that position for a good two hours before Six moved us to sit on the bed. I sat on his lap, sobbing as he petted my hair and whispered his promises to me, for another three and a half hours. By the time I dried out, it was a quarter past midnight. 

Instead of heading out right away, Six wanted to make his last day with me special. So we spent the entire day in each other’s embrace. He never stopped mentioning how much he loved me, nor did he stop proving it. 

By the time the sun set on the horizon once again, we were tired, nervous, and deeply disheartened. But at the same time, we felt unconditionally loved. As if a part of our being was traded to keep forever during our parting. 

We dressed and I packed him a bento meal, ~~his last meal made by me~~ , as he finished packing. 

We both walked to the rift in silence, the moon and stars being our only light and guide. Wild pokemon followed and surrounded us, watching as if they knew what was happening. 

When we finally made it, Six shared with me a final kiss as my tears poured down. 

I kept my eyes on him as he went to the rift, smiled and waved good-bye, and disappeared from sight. 

* * *

“And that was the last I saw of him.” 

Alima lifted her head and gazed around the room. 

Many Stanfords had moved closer to her during the story. A lot shared looks of sympathy towards her, a few with understanding looks scattered the crowd. More had water in their eyes, others had frustrated and disgusted expressions, likely towards her husband. 

Sixer was crying, not voicing his sadness but his tears fell freely onto his lap as he stared at her with a look that asked, ‘how are you still smiling?’, as she _still_ smiled. 

Cyclops was furious, rage emanated off the stronger twin as his expression would kill a man if it could. Alima felt good, knowing that look was only made because Cyclops felt protective of her. 

“Why the long faces boys?” Alima asked around with her smile un-faltered. 

“Because he should have taken you!” Cyclops snapped, startling some of the Stanfords, including his brother, while others nodded in agreement to him. 

“You’re flipping married! You loved him! He was supposed to stay by your side forever and all that! Isn’t that why people marry ta begin with?! What’s the point of makin’ ya a Pines if he wasn’t gonna stick around?!!” 

Cyclops huffed as he caught his breath, the other Pines around remained silent as they agreed with their brothers’ counterpart. 

The sound of the elevator opening caught Alima’s attention, but she did not turn around, knowing who it was as he came at the perfect time. Just like always. 

“I felt you may need tea.” 

Zeta, that sly man, always knew just what she needed. He placed a tray with a small ceramic teapot that held the Oran berry tea she was smelling in the steam emanating from the spout. A matching teacup sat on a tea plate and tiny cups held sugar, honey, and cream for her to sweeten to her liking. 

“Thank you, Zeta.” 

She poured herself a cup and added a bit of cream to cool and honey to sweeten the scalding and strong beverage. 

Alima sipped her cup a bit before speaking again while looking into her reflection in the cup, “I know it may be much to ask, but please do not blame my husband or hold anything against him.” 

“Why not?!” 

Alima moved her eyes to the left, seeing a Stanford at the corner of her vision fuming in rage. It was one of the younger counterparts, Tesla, she remembered. A Stanford that spent some time in a harvesting dimension where planets traded goods and crops more than anything. He spent almost four years in that dimension working at random plantations before the _Traveler_ stopped by the dimension’s nexus for inter-dimensional travel. 

“Because,” she replied, closing her eyes, “I know he only left me to make sure I was safe. If there is one thing any Stanford fears, it’s the chance of a Cipher using those they care about to hurt them.” 

Everyone was silent, even Cyclops, knowing she was right. Ciphers used any means to get what they wanted. They were not above using innocent people to persuade Fords. It was a sick move but a true one that everyone knew would work. Bill Ciphers played dirty, and that was one of the filthiest actions to take, just how they liked them. 

Alima broke the silence after a few more tense moments, “Do not be upset. If he had not left, I would not have followed after him. And if I never started searching, you all would be scattered throughout the multiverse eating who knows what and sleeping who knows where. In the end, his decision brought some good to the multiverse.” 

Everyone seemed to relax a bit at those words. Knowing they were indeed fortunate to be on the ship they were now. Some of them were rescued from pursuing bounty hunters that nearly caught them. Others were stuck in bad places with little to no means of leaving for other dimensions. Most came out of slave trafficking from one stop about a month and a half ago. 

Cyclops crossed his arms and stated, “I’m still gonna talk to him about how ta treat a lady when I meet him.” 

His brother rolled his eyes and gave Cyclops a look that said ‘really’? 

“Hey, ya know ya want ta give him a few choice words too.” Cyclops countered. 

Alima giggled, “Trade all the words you want if you ever meet him.” 

“Oh, I’m gonna meet him. And I’m gonna talk to him. But ya still haven’t gotten to the part where this,” Cyclops gestured to the Ford filled room, “all came together.” 

“Oh, well, that began-” 

A loud ringing interrupted her, with Omega announcing, _“Captain Alima, you are needed at the helm. Captain Alima, you are needed now.”_

Alima sighed, “Well, back to work.” She got up and headed for the elevator, “Looks like we’ll have to save that story for another time, boys.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the things we do for love, am I right? 
> 
> Tell me what you think in the comments down under!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think and leave kudos, please!


End file.
